


girl band

by sourcheeks



Category: Last Podcast on The Left (Podcast) RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Band Fic, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation, Nonbinary Character, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, ben kissel voice so there's this he/they, gender nihilist marcus rights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25037017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sourcheeks/pseuds/sourcheeks
Summary: If anyone asked Ben what was so special about the band he’d say oh nothing really, he just liked the bar, that was all. He didn’t want to sound creepy. But really he kept coming back because of the drummer.
Relationships: Ben Kissel/Marcus Parks, Ben Kissel/Original Male Character
Comments: 20
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

Ben would never really claim to be a huge punk rock guy. Sure, he knew the staples - he could sing along to Blitzkrieg Bop the same as anybody. But he never really sought it out. If anyone asked Ben what was so special about the band he’d say oh nothing really, he just liked the bar, that was all. He didn’t want to sound creepy. But really he kept coming back because of the drummer. 

She was gorgeous, long brown hair and toned arms and a bright, wicked smile he could see the gleam of from way across the bar. Maybe Ben had a bit of a crush, but that was nobody’s business but his! After all. He wasn’t planning to do anything about it. 

Then Ben inevitably actually met the girls. Their set had ended maybe half an hour ago, and the four of them were at the bar, a few stools down from Ben and having a heated, drunken conversation. 

“Hey! Hey, big guy!” 

Ben turned. People usually meant him when they said ‘big guy.’ “Can I help you?”

The girl he recognized as the band’s singer was giving him a lopsided grin. “We need a tiebreaker.”

“Well, always happy to help, ladies.” Ben smiled. He didn’t know why that made the girls laugh, trying to reason that they were all fairly drunk. 

“You look like a fella who knows a thing or two about politics.” The drummer smiled at him. She had a throaty Southern drawl that made Ben weak at the knees. 

“Sure, I was a poli-sci major.”

He was not expecting the question that came next. “Who do _you_ think shot JFK?”

Ben was very proud of himself for keeping a straight face. “I think it was a suicide.”

A beat of silence. The girls dissolved into fits of laughter. 

“A suicide. Dunno how I never thought of that.” The drummer smiled at him. She tucked her hair behind her ear, flashing a strip of ratty sideburn. “My name’s Marcus.”

A flush of embarrassed realization settled over Ben, quickly chased by guilt for his own shame. “I’m Ben.”

“You wanna drink with us, Ben?” The bassist rose her glass to him. 

“I’d be honored, ladies. Uh, and Marcus.”

Ben learned the names of the girls - Carolina, Natalie, and Jackie - and honestly had a lot of fun drinking with them. They were fun, rambunctious and opinionated. And Marcus - well, it wasn’t gay! Ben hadn’t known that he was a dude. So it wasn’t gay to think he was hot. Not that it mattered if it was gay. It was fine to be gay. Ben just wasn’t. And there was nothing wrong with _that_ either. 

He just really hoped Marcus didn't notice him staring. 

“So are you gonna bone him?”

 _“Henry.”_ Marcus rolled his eyes. “No, I do not have any plans to - to _copulate_ with Mister fuckin’ Giant Humanoid.” He took the pipe from Henry, taking a deep drag. 

“Hey, I’m just saying. Y’all could totally make some hybrid babies!”

Marcus nearly choked on the exhale as he laughed. “What? In whose womb?”

“I dunno, maybe he has one! Don’t be so fuckin’ presumptuous.” Henry barked out a laugh. “Man, is he hot though?”

“He has a certain charm,” Marcus deflected. “And he’s funny.” 

“So he’s fuckin ugly.” 

“Don’t be mean!” Marcus fished for his phone, scrolling through his messages from Jackie until he got to their hammered group selfie, with two of them on either side of a slightly sheepish Ben Kissel.

Henry wolf whistled. “Oo, you weren’t kidding, that’s a big ol boy! Could climb him like a fuckin tree, and you aren’t exactly short yourself. I say go for it.”

“You think so?” Marcus smiled like a total doofus at his phone. “He is cute, huh?”

“I never said he was cute. I said you two should bone.”

Marcus laughed, shoving Henry’s arm. “Man, you’re a dick.”

They returned to their Unsolved Mysteries marathon, and Henry thankfully didn’t bring up Ben again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I made some changes to chapter one, so I recommend going back and re-reading that before starting on this one.

“Hey, it’s you!” 

Ben jumped a little at the hand on his shoulder, relaxing when he saw Marcus. “Oh, hey!” 

“You look good, what are you all dressed up for?” Marcus tugged on Ben’s tie. 

Ben laughed a little nervously, readjusting his tie. “Oh, uh, I just got off work. I’m a news anchor.”

“No kiddin.” Marcus kept playing with Ben’s tie. Ben gave up on fixing it. He was off anyways. “Where at?”

Ben cringed. “Uh, Fox News.” He saw Marcus’s face fall and he hastily clarified. “I’m, uh, one of their liberal commentators.”

Marcus smiled his sharp-toothed smile. “Oh, you mean when they’re like ‘and now let’s hear what this insane commie has to say’ and then it cuts to you saying it’s bad to use racial slurs?”

“That’s me!” Ben laughed. 

“I could  _ never _ do that.” Marcus shook his head. “I’d get into too many fights.”

“I’ve nearly got into a few myself.”

A tiny, chubby man lurched over to Marcus, grabbing his arm. “Marcus! Who are you-” He paused, inspecting Ben with squinted eyes. “Oh, is this Mister Giant Humanoid?”

“Henry!” Marcus groaned, putting a hand over his face. “Uh - yeah, this is him.”

“Giant Humanoid?” Ben asked, amused. 

“Like, the sasquatch and other sasquatch-like creatures such as the yeti or the beast of Boggy Creek.” Marcus said this like it was common knowledge. “This is my friend Henry. Henry, this is Ben.” 

Henry patted Ben’s arm. “You take good care of my boy Marcus now. He’s a nice, upstanding Satanist boy.”

“You’re drunk.” Marcus snorted. 

“ _ You’re _ drunk.” Henry made a face at him. 

Marcus made a ‘crazy’ hand signal, and Ben stifled a laugh. “So, you and the girls aren’t playing this week?”

“Nah, Jackie is out of town to visit her  _ and Henry’s _ parents.” Marcus gave Henry a look. 

Henry threw his hands up. “Oh, I already heard it from my mom, I don’t need to hear it from you, you know. I have  _ work.”  _ His pout kind of made him look like a bearded toddler. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Marcus giggled. “Did you show up to hear us?” He brushed his hair out of his face again, and Ben resisted the urge to reach out and do it for him. 

“Yeah, I always do. You guys are great.”

Henry wiggled his eyebrows at Marcus and Marcus elbowed him in the side. “That’s sweet. Always nice to meet a fan,” he joked. 

“Can I get a t-shirt?” Ben asked, mostly joking. 

Marcus surprised him by agreeing. “Sure. What size are you?”

“Uh, 3xl.”

Marcus poked his nose. “Be right back, handsome.”

Marcus left, leaving Ben alone with Henry. “He wants to sleep with you,” Henry informed him. 

Ben blushed, stammering. “I, well - I’m not gay.”

“You’re not?” Henry sounded genuinely surprised. “Are you sure?”

“Wha- yes, I’m  _ sure!” _ Ben rolled his eyes. 

“I’m just double checking!” Henry held his hands up in surrender. “Let him down easy, huh? Marcus ain’t great with rejection.”

“I will,” Ben said, though he was dreading it. 

Marcus looked pleased as punch when he returned with a shirt for Ben. Ben accepted it with a smile, then felt bad. Was he leading Marcus on? 

“How much do I owe you?”

“Like I said, it’s on me. If nothing else, people will definitely notice it on a big guy like you.” Marcus laughed. “Call it free advertising.”

“Sure.” Ben smiled. 

Marcus seemed sad when he had to go. And Ben rationalized away how nervous he felt when Marcus held his hand to scrawl his number on Ben’s palm. It was fine. It was natural. It was normal to be nervous when you made a new friend. 


	3. Chapter 3

Ben doesn't remember the last time someone hit on him. 

No - he does, actually. It was his oldest brother's bachelor party. He'd gotten pretty drunk and had a guy he could probably break on accident sitting in his lap. He'd felt bad for leading the guy on, but he'd appreciated the attention. 

Which is how he felt with Marcus, grinning that sharp grin at him, a hand in the middle of his chest. "Hii, Ben."

"Hey, buddy!" Ben laughed, sucking in his stomach self consciously when Marcus touched his waist under the guise of smoothing out his t-shirt - the one Marcus had given him. 

"That looks good on you! Purple's your color. Goes with your hair."

"Marcus, dude, can you stop groping your new boyfriend in front of us?" Jackie complained. 

Ben's face flooded with color. "I'm not- he's- we're- we aren't dating."

Jackie and her brother exchanged a look that made Ben want to crawl in a hole. "Sure. Sit down, dude."

There was a small circle of pillows and cushions on the floor. Ben sat, Marcus joining him. 

"Do they drug test you at Fox?" Marcus prodded. 

Ben snorted. "Nah. I think they know if they start testing the 'radical liberals' they're gonna have to test everyone. I guarantee there are people in that office smoking way worse stuff than weed."

Jackie cackled. "Oh, man, how do you work there? I would be bashing heads in!"

"I get tempted!" Ben laughed, taking the bong from her. “I mean - every time one of them says something homophobic they look at me all guilty. It’s almost funny, actually, how uncomfortable they get around someone who calls them on their bullshit.”

Marcus smiles and grabs his arm, and Ben felt like he could melt seeing the fond look on Marcus’s face. It was weird. Being treated like he was… desirable, someone to flirt with, someone to tell your friends about. He lifted his beer, putting on a dramatic voice. “Benjamin Kissel, voice of a generation.”

“Hear hear!” Jackie whooped. 

Henry clicked his and Marcus’s beer cans together. “To Ben ‘The Truth’ Kissel!”

Ben laughed. “The Truth, huh? I’ve had worse nicknames.”

God. If Ben had thought Marcus was a flirt while drunk, he was a whole nother story while stoned. He was clinging to Ben’s arm, cheek resting on Ben’s bicep, tracing shapes on the inside of Ben’s forearm with a fingertip. It wasn’t even  _ flirting, _ not really. Marcus was acting like they were already boyfriends or something. 

Ben should ask Marcus to get off his arm. 

Ben didn’t ask Marcus to get off his arm. 

Henry was giving him a look that made him feel all guilty and embarrassed but he was a little too hazy to do anything about it. He realized, almost as if it were happening to someone else, that Marcus’s hand was on his thigh, fingers pressing against the seams of Ben’s jeans. God. Okay. This was okay.

It didn’t count if he was stoned. 

It wasn’t like him and Marcus were making out. 

Marcus was just cuddly. Plenty of people cuddled platonically with their buddies. And then,  _ oh, _ that was Marcus kissing him, lips pressed just below Ben’s ear at the junction of his jaw. 

“Uh, I think I need to go outside.” Ben stood quickly, practically bolting onto the balcony. 

It was a cold night, but the air was bracing. Ben grabbed the balcony railing and looked out at the street below. His skin felt like it was on fire, heat centered on the spot where Marcus’s lips had been. 

“Ben?”

Marcus looks concerned, and god, Ben is  _ such _ an asshole. 

“I’m not gay, Marcus.”

Marcus blinks owlishly. Ben watches the information slowly process through his addled brain, and then  _ “Oh. _ Oh, Ben, I’m sorry, I-”

“No, no, Marcus.” Ben held his hands up, shaking his head. “It’s my fault, I should have said something sooner, I…” He sighed. “I’m sorry for, you know. Leading you on.”

“It’s fine, Ben.” Marcus joined him by the balcony railing. “You know, most straight guys don’t let me get past a wink.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to think… I’m not homophobic.” And he’d liked feeling attractive. Desirable. “My brothers are gay.”

Marcus smiled a little. “Mine isn’t. You two should form a support group.” He must see the look on Ben’s face, because he quickly adds “I’m  _ kidding, _ Ben. You wanna go back in, or you need a minute?”

“I need a minute.”

Marcus nodded, leaving Ben alone on the balcony with a fraternal pat on the back. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ben kissel top ten cisman moments. number four will surprise you!

Marcus and the girls had been stoked to book a Halloween show, and they’d made plans with Ben and Henry to hang out after. Really, Ben had been looking forward to it for a couple of weeks now. 

But everything felt weird after his conversation with Marcus on the balcony. Marcus didn’t seem to take it too hard. He was as friendly as ever, just a little less handsy. That was worse, somehow, than if he’d been mad at Ben. Or at least awkward around Ben. Something would be better than nothing. It just felt so… anticlimactic, after something Ben had been freaking out about ever since he and Marcus met. 

Ben tried to focus on the show. The girls were all dressed up as superheroes, it was a cute little gimmick. Nat was dressed as Catwoman, Carolina was dressed as Wonder Woman, and Jackie was dressed as Batwoman. 

And Marcus was dressed as Supergirl. 

Ben still found himself subconsciously lumping Marcus in as one of “the girls” when he talked to Henry. Which he guessed was the point. Marcus didn’t seem inclined to dissuade anyone from thinking he was a woman. Once Ben had heard someone remark that Marcus was an odd name for a girl and Marcus had just laughed, said “Yeah, I guess so.”

But he didn’t seem to care when people knew he  _ wasn’t _ a woman, either. Ben knew about being transgendered. His brothers had trans friends. But Marcus wasn’t a girl. In spite of that, he was still  _ one of _ the girls. On his own, Marcus seemed perfectly comfortable with being a man - next to his bandmates, he seemed similarly content to be a woman. 

Ben was sure there was a word for it. But he’d never met anyone like Marcus before.

Man, woman, or not, it was weird to see someone drum in a skirt. Ben found his eyes drawn up Marcus’s long, lean legs and - he was  _ not _ going to look up Marcus’s skirt. Even if he was gay, or if Marcus wasn’t a dude, that was still  _ creepy. _

But he could acknowledge that Marcus had nice legs. 

He could not stop acknowledging it, actually. Marcus was on the couch next to Ben and Ben could see that his legs were shaved. Ben wondered if that was for the costume, or if that was a regular thing. 

“And  _ another _ thing,” Marcus was saying. “Is - the argument for feral humans doesn’t make  _ sense _ when you consider that the Boggy Creek monster has reported heights of up to eight feet!”

“Maybe it was Kissel.” Henry elbowed him. 

Marcus shook his head, pushing some of the synthetic blonde wig hair out of his mouth. “Kissel is a big guy, sure, but he’s only 6’7. Which is well above average, admittedly, but well within a normal human range. Even Andre the Giant was only 7’4.”

“Oh, he’s a scientist now,” Natalie teased. 

“I’m an amateur cryptozoologist.” Marcus uncapped a tube of lipstick he seemed to have been keeping in his shirt. Had he been keeping it in his bra? Was he wearing a bra? Ben wasn’t thinking about this. He was not thinking about his friend’s underwear situation. It was none of his business. 

Marcus and Henry started a playful argument about the merits of the term ‘amateur cryptozoologist’ that Ben was only half paying attention to. He watched Marcus reapply his lipstick, the cheerful pink of it contrasted against his dark stubble. He watched Marcus take a drink, leaving a lipstick mark on his beer can. He watched Marcus tuck his lipstick back into - okay, Marcus was  _ definitely _ wearing a bra. 

“Ben, you’re our resident giant humanoid.” Marcus smiled at him. He had lipstick on his teeth. 

“Well, I think everyone should just leave the sasquatches alone!” Ben smiled back. “We aren’t hurting anyone!”

“Didn’t one of the Boggy Creek sightings involve a dude, like, breaking into someone’s house?” Carolina asked. 

“And demanding she cook him breakfast,” Marcus confirmed. 

Jackie laughed. “I dunno, that seems like a pretty normal day in Arkansas.”

“Now, come on, I’m sure the Arkansans are a fine people,” Ben offered diplomatically. 

Henry shook his head. “Are you fucking running for primaries right now, dude?”

Ben laughed. “I’m just trying to be nice!”

“Texarkana was a sundown town, dude!”

Ben tossed his hands up. “Well, I didn’t know that, Henry!”

Marcus laughed, pressing his forehead against Ben’s bicep. “Boys, come on.”

“Tell it to fucking, Senator Kissel over here!” Henry huffed dramatically. “It’s these fuckin radical leftists running the government-”

“Wait,  _ what?” _ Ben wheezed. 

_ “Sweetheart-” _ Natalie cackled. 

Henry started a dramatic rant in an impression of Tucker Carlson that brought Ben close to tears with laughter. For a minute, he forgot about all of his weird feelings about Marcus. It was really, really nice. 


	5. Chapter 5

Sometimes, men would creep into Ben’s head when he was jerking off. 

It wasn’t that Ben was into guys. Just, sometimes he’d be watching porn and the camera angle would cut to the dude at exactly the wrong time. Not his fault. 

Usually it was an instinct he could ignore, replace the nameless, faceless male fantasy in his head with a nameless, faceless female fantasy. 

But his male fantasies weren’t nameless and faceless anymore. 

Ben  _ just _ wanted to get off before he had to get up and go to work. But Marcus kept popping up to the front of his mind. Did Marcus wear that bra all the time? How would Marcus’s legs feel around his waist? Those toned drummer’s arms pushing him back against the bed. 

What would Marcus look like fucking him?

Ben shot out of bed without finishing, disgusted with himself and then even more disgusted with himself for being disgusted with himself. He took a cold shower and thought very hard about all the conservative reporters he was about to have to deal with. 

He was irritable all day at work, but that wasn’t really  _ that _ weird. He got home and changed out of his work clothes, sitting down on the couch and letting Puffin and Jerry curl up in his lap. He ordered pizza and rewatched Cannibal Holocaust. 

That was a bad choice of movie. He’d seen it enough times that it settled into a comfortable background noise. It let his mind wander. He started thinking about Marcus again. He was thinking about how good Marcus’s legs had looked in that skirt and wondered what he’d look like without it and - he glanced up at the TV to distract himself and was greeted with the impalement scene and  _ that _ was a wire that did not need to get crossed. He jabbed the power button on his remote and settled back, covering his face. 

“What’s wrong with me, guys?” he lamented to his dogs. 

There was nothing wrong with being gay. Ben knew that! Both of his brothers were gay and he loved them very much. But Ben wasn’t gay. Ben liked girls. 

And Marcus. 

Except it wasn’t  _ just _ Marcus. 

Ben thought about a lot of things he hadn’t thought in a while. Wishing he was a girl in elementary school so him and his best friend could get married. Being afraid to look anywhere but straight ahead at the wall in locker rooms in high school. Backyard wrestling with his friends in his teens and 20s, trying to laugh off awkward boners, not tapping out even when it hurt because there was just something about not having to be the tough guy in charge. Hell, his fixation on wrestling and basketball as a whole. Looking at basketball players and wondering how it would feel not to have to bend down to kiss someone. Letting himself look a little too long, linger on stills more than he normally would when he watched deathmatches, defending himself to nobody that he was just trying to see if anyone was actually injured. 

“But I still like girls,” Ben announced in frustration. Jerry licked some pizza grease off of his hand. 

Marcus’s phone went to voicemail. Ben didn’t want to text him - if he had to type out what he was feeling he’d never actually get it out there. Maybe it was for the best. He probably shouldn’t be discussing his new discoveries with the epicenter of his gay (?) awakening. 

Settling back on the couch, glancing around nervously even though he lived alone, Ben palmed himself through his boxers and tried to think about Marcus again. The thoughts came easily enough when he didn’t want them - now that he did, his brain made leaps and bounds instead of trying to shut itself off. 

Ben yanked his hand away from himself, feeling a weird, tight ball of shame, guilt, and arousal in his stomach. He knew there was nothing wrong with this, nothing wrong with him. He  _ knew _ it. 

So why did he feel so fucking bad? 


	6. Chapter 6

Ben is mid-freakout when Marcus calls him back. 

“Kissel?” Marcus’s voice is thick and hoarse over the phone. “Hey, why’d you call me?”

“Um…” Ben hears someone else talking on the other end. “Shit, are you busy?”

“Mm, I was. Not anymore.” Marcus laughs a little, and Ben hears a zipper come up, bedsprings creaking. His face flushes hot, shame flaring back up. 

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t worry about it, Ben, it’s fine,” Marcus reassured. “What’s up?”

Ben chewed his lip anxiously. “It’s private…”

Ben hears muted conversation, like Marcus has his hand over the phone. Then Marcus’s voice comes back, a little less rough. “Alright, I’m alone. Is everything okay, Ben?”

“I feel weird,” Ben blurted. “I keep, you know, thinking about - guys. And I think I have been, for a really long time, and I’ve just been avoiding it? Like - I’m not gay, I know I’m not gay because I like girls, I like girls a lot, but sometimes dudes just get in my head and I can’t get them out and I don’t know how long I’ve been ignoring it and-” Ben was crying. Oh, fuck, he was crying. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, dude.” His voice broke pathetically and he sniffled, scrubbing his face with his arm. 

“Oh, Ben.” Marcus’s voice had gone gentle, no tease, no bite. “Nothing’s wrong with you, bud. It’s normal to be scared. I was real scared when I first came to terms with my sexuality too.”

“Really?” Marcus was so… confident, so sure of himself, Ben couldn’t imagine that ever not being the truth. 

Marcus laughed. “Yeah, man! I’m from Texas. We aren’t known for our super cool attitude towards people who aren’t cishet.”

Ben didn’t know what cishet meant and he was too embarrassed to ask. “Oh.”

“You feel bad for thinking about guys, right? And then you feel even worse for feeling gross for being gay.”

“I’m not gay.”

“Or bi, or whatever. The point is that just because you know consciously that you aren’t doing anything wrong, it can take a long time to overcome that subconscious revulsion.”

That made sense. Ben had felt it when his brothers came out, felt it when he saw Marcus in his Supergirl costume - he knew, he  _ knew _ they weren’t doing anything wrong, but there was a part of him that was ashamed and afraid. “I still like girls,” he mumbled at his ceiling. 

Marcus laughed. “So do I.”

“But-” Ben frowned. 

“But I hit on you?”

“Yes!” he huffed. 

Marcus laughed again. “I’m bisexual. And it sounds like you might be too.”

Oh. “Thanks, Marcus.”

“Glad I could help, Ben.”

Ben had only the vaguest idea of what ‘bisexual’ actually meant. He’d heard it in passing a few times, usually guys talking about girls they thought were easy. He didn’t even know guys could be bisexual. He typed ‘bisexual’ into Google. 

“Bisexuality is romantic attraction, sexual attraction, or sexual behavior toward both males and females, or to more than one sex or gender. It may also be defined as romantic or sexual attraction to people of any sex or gender identity, which is also known as pansexuality,” he read out loud. That sounded like him, yeah. He kept scrolling past a bunch of stuff that looked like it was gonna go directly over his head, stuff from the HRC and HealthLine. 

At the bottom of the page, one of the suggested search terms was ‘signs of bisexuality in males.’ Ben clicked on it. 

There was an article titled ‘signs of men being bi.’ Ben scanned it - it talked about homophobic behavior as compensation, close male friendships, disinterest in straight sex, and sexual encounters with men while in prison or on drugs. None of that described him except the close male friendships, but he was pretty sure straight guys had those too. 

Ben scanned another article talking about how to tell if your partner was bi, and if he was, if he was cheating on you with other men. He felt indignant - he’d never cheated on any of his girlfriends before. 

Against Ben’s better judgement, he clicked on another suggested search term - ‘reasons for bisexuality.’

An article from three months ago reported that there was “robust evidence” that men could be bisexual. So maybe it was just something for women? Was Ben being, like, a misogynist if he tried to be bisexual? Another article explained how most bisexuals end up being straight. Another talked about why bisexuals don’t disclose their sexuality. Ben physically stopped himself from clicking on an article titled ‘The Messy Realities of Bisexuality’ and tossed his phone down, feeling worse than he had when he called Marcus. Fuck this shit. He couldn’t stay cooped up in his own head anymore. Maybe he should just go walk the dogs. 


	7. Chapter 7

Marcus had one eye squinted shut, painting his nails. "You should let me do yours, Ben."

Ben looked down at his own hand, stammering. "I, uh-"

"I ain't gonna tie you down or anything," Marcus reassured. "But it might be fun, experiment with your presentation a little."

Ben laid his hand on the table and Marcus started to drag the brush over his nails in slow, even strokes. "There's a picture somewhere of me getting arrested in a dress."

"Arrested?" Marcus looked up at Ben through his hair. "What for?"

"Wearing a dress." At Marcus's look, Ben clarifies. "I was at a protest against an anti-crossdressing law. They rounded up a lot of dudes in dresses. And, you know, some people who weren’t dudes.” Ben’s cheeks are flushed and his jaw is set. It’s obviously a sore spot. Marcus doesn’t blame him. 

“Fuck em, right?”

“Fuck em,” Ben agreed. 

Marcus finished Ben’s left hand, starting on his right. “You’re tense.”

“It’s been a tense couple of days.” Ben sighed. “I, uh. Did some research last night. Started looking up stuff about being bisexual.”

Marcus paused midway through screwing the brush back into the nail polish bottle. “Oh. Oh,  _ Ben.” _

“I know there’s nothing wrong with me.” Ben’s voice was soft and strained. It made Marcus want to cry. 

“Come here, big guy.” Marcus stood up, wrapping his arms around Ben’s shoulders. 

Ben pressed his face into Marcus’s stomach, sniffling softly. “I feel like a freak. I know I’m not, I  _ know _ there’s nothing wrong with me. But…” He trailed off, but he didn’t have to say it. Marcus knew just how he felt. 

“It feels different, right? Like it’s okay when  _ other _ people do it. But when it’s you it just feels wrong.”

“Yeah,” Ben mumbled. “Can you… it would help. If you told me it was fine.”

“You’re not a freak, Ben. You’re not any more of a freak for being attracted to men than I’m a freak for wearing women’s clothes. You’re not any more of a freak for liking men than you are for liking women. There is nothing, not a goddamn thing wrong with who you are and who you love.” Marcus stroked Ben’s hair gently, Ben hiccuping softly and pressing his forehead against Marcus’s chest. 

“It’s not-” Ben’s voice cracked. “It would be different if it was  _ just _ love, Marcus.”

Marcus swallowed around the lump in his throat. “There’s nothing wrong with who you wanna fuck either, Ben. Who you are is beautiful. Every single part of it.”

Ben sobbed, clinging to Marcus hard enough that it kind of hurt. Marcus let Ben cry himself out, petting his hair gently. 

“You’re alright. I got you, darlin’.”

Ben pulled back after a while, his face wet and puffy, eyes bloodshot. “Thanks. Uh. For doing that.”

“Course, Ben.” Marcus wiped Ben’s cheeks with the cuff of his flannel. “I’m gonna get you some water and you have a lie-down, alright?”

When Marcus got back with a cup of water Ben was already asleep in his bed, face pressed against Marcus’s plush Mothman. Marcus smiled, leaving the cup on the nightstand and kissing Ben’s forehead, pulling the blanket over him. 


	8. Chapter 8

Ben woke up with a killer headache, a dry mouth, itchy eyes, and a sore throat. He thought it was bullshit you had to feel so bad physically after crying when it was supposed to be this huge emotional release. 

Marcus had left some water for him. Ben downed it like a dying man, stumbling blearily into the kitchen. 

“Hey, you’re up!” Marcus grinned at him. “Sit down, I’m almost done with dinner.”

“Hey.” Ben sat at the kitchen table. “Uh, thanks. For earlier. I needed that.” 

“I could tell.” Marcus laughed, but it wasn’t mean. He seemed like… like he’d liked helping Ben. 

“I don’t-” Ben paused, collecting his words. “People don’t usually… usually I have to do stuff like that. I always have to be the strong one.”

Marcus shook his head. “There doesn’t have to  _ be _ a strong one, Ben. We’re friends, and friends take care of each other.”

Ben fought past the tightness in his throat. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Marcus laughed, that fond little chuckle again, put a plate in front of Ben. “Here, eat. You look like shit.”

Ben shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth gratefully. “I feel it. Sorry for getting all sappy on you.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ve been where you are now. I know it’s not a fun place to be.” 

The idea that Marcus, in all his confidence and acceptance of himself, had once felt the same way Ben did now did give Ben some hope. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt this bad for this long. He twirled some more pasta around his fork, fascinated by his dark nails. “I can’t go into work like this.”

“Why not? Fuck them. They’re lucky to have you, dude.” Marcus shook his head a little. “Besides. I think you look handsome. It suits you.”

Ben flushed. The nail polish looked good on Marcus, who was already androgynous - even Marcus’s facial hair didn’t immdiately make people assume he was a man. Ben couldn’t look like that no matter how hard he tried. The polish on his nails made him feel like he was doing a bad impression of a real gay person. “Thanks, Marcus.”

Marcus smiled. “People will be  _ pissed _ when they see you.”

Ben laughed, looking down at his hands. “Yeah. Yeah, they will.”

“Why is  _ Henry _ here?” Ben frowned. 

“Cause you are such a hopeless dork you need  _ two _ wingmen, Kissel.”

“Henry!” Marcus scolded. “He’s here for moral support. Not that he’s doing a very good job of it.”

“Whatever.” Ben sighed. “Just… don’t be surprised if no one pays me any attention.”

As it turned out, however, Ben was something of a hot commodity. He’d never gotten this much attention from girls at a bar, but three different dudes had hit on him in the past half hour. 

Four, if the look on the face of the guy in front of him was anything to go by. “Hey, handsome.”

“Uh, most people call me Ben, actually,” Ben joked. 

The other guy laughed, reaching up to tuck his hair behind his ear. He was shorter than Ben but still tall, skinny with long chestnut hair. “My name is Robbie. Can I buy you a drink?” He laid a hand on Ben’s forearm. 

Ben nodded, hoping Robbie couldn’t tell he was blushing. “Ah, yeah, I’d love one.”

Robbie flagged down the bartender and got the both of them beers, leaning against the bar and giving Ben a look that made him feel… it felt wrong to say ‘like a piece of meat,’ because that felt so dehumanizing. Ben liked the look. It made him feel confident, desirable. Less like a middle schooler who was getting hit on by a popular kid as a joke. “So, what brings you here, Ben?”

“Oh, just… with my friends.” Ben gestured to Marcus and Henry, who were sitting at a table trying and failing not to look like they were watching Ben. They both hastily looked away when Ben pointed them out. 

Robbie hummed, placing a hand in the center of Ben’s chest. “Shame, I was kinda hoping you were here alone so I could take you back to my place.”

“I, uh, I don’t think they’d mind.” Ben leaned down and lowered his voice a little. “They kinda only brought me here to get me laid.”

Robbie’s laugh was bright and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I would love to help with that.”

“Yeah?” Any pretense of coolness and charm was totally out the window. Ben was really, really bad at getting hit on. “I, uh, would like that.”

Robbie smiled, getting on tiptoe to press a kiss to Ben’s jaw. Ben felt his face flood with heat, stomach twisting in knots. “Perfect. Let’s get out of here.”


	9. Chapter 9

Ben was hardly a playboy, but he wasn’t a virgin, either, and he liked to think he knew a thing or two. Robbie seemed to agree, straddling Ben’s lap with his hands on Ben’s shoulders. “You’re a  _ great _ kisser,” he enthused, nipping at Ben’s jaw. 

“Haa… thanks, so are you,” Ben breathed, wrapping his arms around Robbie’s waist. Robbie was skinny, his little waist feeling almost fragile in Ben’s hands. Christ. What if Ben managed to hurt him?

Robbie pushed his hands under Ben’s t-shirt and Ben grimaced, sucking in his stomach. Robbie quickly pulled them away. “Sorry. Don’t have to touch you there.”

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Ben admitted. “I’ve never… done this with a guy.”

“That’s alright, hon.” Robbie kissed him sweetly. “We don’t  _ have _ to go all the way if you don’t want to.”

The tension drained from Ben’s shoulders. “Oh. Well - I still wanna do something.”

Robbie hummed thoughtfully, kissing his neck. “Do you want me to blow you?”

Ben gasped a little. “Um - yeah, yes, please.”

Robbie slid off his lap and Ben stood. When Robbie sank to his knees in front of Ben, it hit Ben that this was really about to happen. And he  _ wanted _ it, but a small part of him was worried that he’d mess it up. If anyone was capable of messing up something as simple as getting a blowjob, it’d be Ben.

“You’re handsome.” Robbie rubbed his palms over Ben’s jean-covered thighs, reaching up to grab his ass. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of your body. I’m not gonna make you do anything, of course, but you don’t have to be embarrassed to strip in front of me.”

Ben was not going to cry before they even actually started having sex. “Um… next time, maybe.”

“So there’s gonna be a next time, huh?” Robbie grinned, mouthing at Ben’s dick through his jeans. 

Ben groaned, pressing his palms flat against the wall. It had been a long time. He hoped he lasted long enough not to embarrass himself. “Well! If there’s not, it won’t be because  _ I’m _ the one who didn’t want to.”

Robbie laughed, unzipping Ben’s jeans, taking Ben’s cock in his hand and stroking it a couple times. Ben started to reach out, then faltered. 

“Can - can I touch you? While you do that?”

Robbie pressed a kiss to the head of his dick. “You can do whatever you want.”

Ben groaned, tangling his fingers loosely in Robbie’s long hair. He looked like a weird composite of all the guys Ben had ever repressed his crushes on and Ben realized he had a  _ type, _ the skinny, flirty gay guys his brothers joked about. Twinks? He was pretty sure the word was twinks. 

Robbie took Ben into his mouth, Ben gritting his teeth and tugging at Robbie’s hair a little. Robbie hummed encouragingly, swirling his tongue around Ben’s dick. 

_ “Jesusfuckingchrist-” _ Ben wheezed, head thudding back against the wall. “Shit, sorry- it’s been a while-”

Robbie grabbed Ben’s hips, thumb rubbing circles against his side to calm him down. It helped, actually, made him feel a little bit more focused. Ben stared down at Robbie with wide eyes. He knew he must have looked like a mess when Robbie looked up at him through his hair, but he just winked and took Ben into his throat. 

“Fuck!” Ben quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, not wanting Robbie’s neighbors to overhear. The little fucker laughed around Ben’s dick, and Ben felt weak at the knees. “Mar-ahhh, fuck,” Ben panted, shaking his head. “Wait, wait, stop.”

Robbie pulled off with a concerned look. “Everything okay?” 

“Everything is fine. I’m fine, just-” Ben quickly shoved himself back into his jeans, not able to look at Robbie. 

“It can be overwhelming the first time.” Robbie kissed his hip. “You’re okay, Ben, don’t be embarrassed. You wanna lay down with me?”

Ben nodded. He kicked off his sneakers, getting into Robbie’s bed. Robbie snuggled up to his side, laying his head on Ben’s shoulder. “Sorry,” Ben mumbled. 

“Don’t be.” Robbie kissed his jaw. “It’s better not to rush it, alright? You’ll get there when you’re ready.”

Ben nodded, staring up at the ceiling. Robbie didn’t make him talk, just cuddled up with him until they both fell asleep, crammed together in Robbie’s twin bed.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You look cute." Robbie smiled, reaching up to fix Ben's collar then smoothing his hands down Ben's chest. Ben laughed nervously. 
> 
> "Uh, thank you! You look nice too."
> 
> And Robbie did look nice. Fuck, what was wrong with Ben? Most people didn't go on a date with a guy two days after fantasizing about their best friend while he was blowing them. But here was Ben fucking Kissel. Robbie was a nice guy. He didn't deserve this. 

“Kissel, you are  _ hopeless.” _ Henry jabbed a finger into Ben’s chest. 

“Hey, he has a boyfriend!” Marcus countered. “Don’t sound too hopeless to me.”

“He’s not - we aren’t  _ boyfriends.” _ Ben made a face. “We’re just going on a date.” Henry gave him a look, and Ben added  _ “One _ date. To see how it goes. How do I look?”

Marcus hummed thoughtfully, looking Ben over. “You’re a little dressed up, honestly. You look like you’re going to work.”

Ben huffed. “I wanted to look nice!”

“Who’s the expert?” Marcus countered. He stepped forward, undoing Ben’s tie, untucking his shirt and undoing the top two buttons. “There. Now you look nice without looking like you’re gonna ask this dude for his resume.”

Ben straightened out his shirt. “Don’t you think it’s a little… am I showing too much skin?”

“Ben, if I looked the way you look I’d be showing  _ much _ more skin  _ much _ more often.” Marcus rolled his eyes.

Ben found that hard to believe, but if he said that Marcus would lecture him. "Alright, alright. Wish me luck?"

"You don't need it, big guy," Marcus promised, patting Ben's cheek. "You got this."

"You look cute." Robbie smiled, reaching up to fix Ben's collar then smoothing his hands down Ben's chest. Ben laughed nervously. 

"Uh, thank you! You look nice too."

And Robbie did look nice. Fuck, what was wrong with Ben? Most people didn't go on a date with a guy two days after fantasizing about their best friend while he was blowing them. But here was Ben fucking Kissel. Robbie was a nice guy. He didn't deserve this. 

The worst part was that it was a really fun date. Robbie told Ben stories about the bookstore he worked at, listened attentively while Ben talked about basketball, and he didn't seem at all embarrassed to hold hands with Ben over the table in the restaurant. 

"Is something wrong?" Robbie asked softly. 

"I'm fine!" Ben lied with his best newscaster smile. "Just - gosh. Haven't been on a date in a while! And. Usually with girls."

Robbie smiled indulgently, squeezing Ben's hand. "I keep forgetting I'm your first."

Ben pulled a face. "Eugh, don't say it like that."

Robbie's laugh is high and bright and in another timeline Ben can see himself falling for the sweet, funny art major holding his hand in the middle of Checker's. "Sorry. But, seriously. I like you a lot, Ben."

Something snapped in Ben's chest, and he winced. Right. Time to rip off the band-aid. "Robbie… I'm really sorry. But there's. God." He dragged a hand over his face. "It's not your fault. You're so sweet, and I do like you, but there's… honestly, someone else? Who was sort of. You know. Responsible for the whole. Me learning I'm bi thing. And I feel really fucking bad for leading you on."

The hurt in Robbie's eyes is obvious, but he hides it well. "Oh, Ben. I understand. Hey, we can still be friends!"

Ben felt the tension drain from his shoulders. "That'd be nice. I do still like you."

"This was a nice date. Thank you for that." Robbie squeezed Ben's hand and cleared his throat, then plastered on a smile that looked like it was only halfway forced. "Hey! Do you wanna get dessert?"


End file.
